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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697019">Clarity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkfire/pseuds/pinkfire'>pinkfire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Tendery, ish?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:15:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkfire/pseuds/pinkfire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s not a smudge. He’s a silhouette. Ten can make out the edges, he just needs to find out what makes Hendery, well, Hendery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Clarity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten isn’t the type to see things in other people. Maybe he’s too absorbed in his own world. Ask him what details he’s remembered from exes, what they were like, he won’t be able to tell you. You’d probably get a long pause and something along the lines of “they were pretty.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He notices small things about his roommate of four years, though. He doesn’t notice that he notices. If he did acknowledge it, his excuse would be “I live with him. It’s a part of my life now.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten’s list of “weird things Hendery does” could stretch from one end of Hong Kong to the other. Hendery only eats the orange starbursts. Hendery closes the curtains when it rains. Hendery would rather do his work on the floor than his desk. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t until Hendery came around that Ten started realizing how lonely it is. A world full of people and he’ll only know how his own mind works. He wonders if he’s different. People don’t feel like <em>people </em>to him. They feel like smudges on a detailed painting. They come into his life, teach him a thing or two, and wash away like sand on the shoreline. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hendery feels like progress. He’s different enough to capture Ten’s interest. He’s not a smudge. He’s a silhouette. Ten can make out the edges, he just needs to find out what makes Hendery, well, Hendery. Maybe Ten will feel less lonely if he colors Hendery in. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One night, they’re on separate ends of the couch, fleeting colors from the tv screen exposing their twin exhaustion. Neither of them wanted to admit that they’d simply gotten drawn into the movie that their cable displayed to them. Maybe after this, Ten would say “I’d watch anything with a plot at this point,” and Hendery would agree. Because men aren’t supposed to enjoy sappy movies like <em>A Dog’s Purpose</em>, or that’s what their childhoods told them. They’re supposed to be entertained by explosions and hot girls, right? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The movie is coming to an end, and Ten hears a faint sniffle from the opposite end of the couch. He can tell Hendery is crying. His face is in his palms and small whimpers escape through his lips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hendery, this is a happy ending. Everyone’s happy, see?” Ten tries, but it only makes Hendery’s shoulders shake more violently and forces a few more whimpers out. Then Ten notices another detail to Hendery. He never cries at a sad ending. All of the characters could be dead, the two leads could end up separated, but Hendery’s expression would remain untouched. Happy endings were a different story. They would always send Hendery into a messy fit of tears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For once, Ten is curious about someone else. He scoots a little closer, bringing his knees to his chest. Hendery has stopped crying, wiping at his glistening cheeks and tired eyes. “Why do happy endings make you cry?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You wouldn’t understand,” Hendery shrugs. He already has a little smile over his lips, perhaps laughing at himself for crying like a baby. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Try.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hendery huffs, but looks up at the ceiling, trying to piece together his words. “Happiness feels lonely. You’re already at the top, spiritually, right? I think— that feels like the end of the world. What now, you know?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you don’t like being happy?” Ten questions, planting his cheek onto his knee. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course I like being happy! I’m just... confused. When movies have a happy ending, I get overwhelmed. I don’t know what I want anymore.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All of Hendery’s words seem to be nonsense he’s throwing out into the stuffy air of their apartment. Ten stays patient, though. These words probably make sense in Hendery’s mind. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m scared of heaven.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My grandmother always told me that when you go to heaven, there’s no sin, just beautiful meadows, singing, dancing, and everyone is happy. But I don’t want to be always happy, it doesn’t feel right,” he continues, having turned to look into Ten’s eyes. “Ten... do you think it’ll all make sense when I find them? I’ve never been in love before. Will I like happiness if it’s with someone else?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hendery has always been a little childish in a fun way, sometimes pretty ditzy but it’s cute. He likes sweets and stuffed animals, forces Ten to help him decorate for holidays. Ten has still always seen him as an adult. Hendery looks different tonight, asking a question that not even Ten knows the answer to. He looks like a kid that’s just trying to find out what the world is. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know. I don’t know what it feels like either,” Ten confesses. He doesn’t usually go deep into thought like this, so his answers are short. It’s kind of nice, having such an abstract conversation with Hendery late at night. It feels like he’s actually discovering the inner workings of another person, and the canvas in Ten’s head has fresh paint on it, the same striking red color of Hendery’s hoodie that night. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like a curious puppy, Hendery cocks his head to the side, dark chocolate irises finding a way to glimmer in their dark apartment. He has a wide range of emotions that change every few minutes. Ten thinks it’s so the complex feelings can all have a turn. Right now, Hendery is some kind of excited and playful. Ten recognizes this look, from times Hendery impulsively bought something expensive or dyed his hair a stupid color. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Ten rolls his eyes, placing his feet down on the worn carpet and slumping against the couch. If Hendery is going to start acting weird, Ten should just go to bed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before Ten can wonder why Hendery is leaning closer, he feels warm lips pressed against his, delicate fingers playing through his hair. It’s too late at night to think, and Hendery’s babbling had fried the rest of Ten’s braincells, so he doesn’t see a reason not to kiss back. It’s messy and urgent. Hendery ends up on Ten’s lap at one point, and they’re both grabbing at any part of each other they can get their hands on. Ten has experienced make out sessions with others many times before, but Hendery feels so much warmer, so much more alive. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time they’re both exhausted, breathing heavily and exchanging lazy kisses, Ten’s painting finally has a person in it. The details need to be refined, but Hendery is there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe Ten won’t be lonely anymore.</span>
</p>
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